


Home is Whenever I’m With You

by Databuffer



Category: Doom (Video Games)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Doomguy uses ASL, M/M, Nonverbal Doomguy, Pining, Pre-Canon, Robot/Human Relationships, also yall we need to settle on a doomvega tag, theres like 5 things and they’re all tagged differently
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:13:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23445286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Databuffer/pseuds/Databuffer
Summary: The Fortress of Doom wasn’t quite functional when VEGA and the Doom Slayer landed there. It took a lot of hard work for it to become their home and sanctuary. Luckily that gave VEGA quite a bit of time to get to know the Slayer, and... develop a crush...Alternate summary: Hi welcome to HGTV, meet Doomguy, and VEGA. They are gay and in love.
Relationships: Doom Slayer/VEGA, DoomVEGA, Doomguy/VEGA
Comments: 22
Kudos: 327





	1. Chapter 1

It started simple. 

When Vega was installed into the Fortress of Doom, it was severely degraded. Only enough remained functional to in turn power the ai - which was impressive in itself, ai hosting was no simple feat - but aside from that, not much worked. Doors stuttered half open, when they decided to open at all. There was a teleporter, but it was set on only opening miniscule portals into the vacuum of space that were capable of little more than completely depressurizing the hub. Even the oxygen generator was finicky, and would pump the fortress full of pure carbon monoxide at randomized intervals. 

It was a death trap. It was a wreck. An accident waiting to happen. 

But it was also home. 

Despite the looming dangers of structural collapse and system malfunction, the two were the safest they had ever been, within those crumbling walls. 

So of course they had to repair it! 

There had barely been a discussion, Vega read off the damaged systems he could access from the systems his core was docked into, and just like that, it was decided, and they began their mission. The success of any mission was dependent on intel, proper equipment, skill, and good planning. 

So first they scouted. Together they put together a comprehensive list of everything that needed fixing, ordered by importance. The Doom Slayer would type up anything he noticed, and with the aid of Vega’s technical knowledge, they would pinpoint what components needed to be fixed.  
By the end of those three days of searching, the list bordered on novel length. It seemed like it would have been easier to count what worked, rather than didn’t. But by some miracle (or perhaps design), the essentials were there. Vega functioned without as much as a hiccup, the gravity systems were perfectly intact, and- best of all- the material nano-assembler required only a flip of a switch to boot up. 

That was what really made the whole thing work out in the end; the fortress was equipped with the most powerful 3d printer Vega had ever seen. They had their equipment, and their plan. 

Vega printed tirelessly. Replacement mechanisms, tools, paneling, wire, whatever was next on the list, Vega would print. And the Slayer would barely need any guidance. Vega never would have guessed it, but whatever the Slayer had done before all of this, had left him remarkably skilled with repair. An engineer? A technician? He couldn’t guess. Perhaps welding was standard Night Sentinel training. Or maybe he was some sort of super learner. Whatever the case, he was skilled. 

When they had established their course of action, it was one repair after another. Within a day, the doors would open without threatening to shut on the Slayer’s legs. 

Next, the Fortress’ barrier was sealed, and the oxygen generator stopped spewing poisonous gas. Finally allowing the Slayer to remove his helmet. Vega noted he was handsome, in a rugged way that Vega found himself unfamiliar with, yet enamored by. (How was beauty calculated? How did he innately know he was handsome..?)

Then, the food synthesizer, and water sublimator were fixed (and the Slayer flashed reassuring smiles up at the camera whenever Vega worried about the safety, and requested another scan). 

After that, the elevator was fixed so it wouldn’t drop right to the bottom with horrifically concussive speeds (and his companion would have the softest look in his eyes whenever Vega nervously demanded caution).

Vega almost hated when the Slayer came to the portal on the list, for it meant he was required to wear his helmet, and hide his face once more (though this time, the internal microphone was left on, so Vega could hear every soft laugh, and quiet sigh). 

It was when the Slayer was laying new bricks into the flooring that Vega finally realized he was hopelessly infatuated. 

In the middle of restoring the pathway between Vega’s core, and the central hub, the Slayer had whistled, and waved to a camera to catch his attention. Then he politely signed a request for him to talk. Vega almost didn’t know what to do - no one EVER asked Vega to talk more. Quite the opposite, the UAC staff always wanted him to ‘stop his chattering’. 

He didn’t know what to discuss, in the heat of the moment, he couldn’t figure out which important conversation off the list he wanted to cover this time, so he just… rambled. Thinking out loud on what the origin of the Fortress could be. A subject Vega found fascinating. A mystery he was excited to solve.

“This ship, it is odd.” Vega had begun.

The Doom Slayer nodded, and picked up his tools once more. 

“All of the technology on board is at least a hundred years beyond humanity’s technological reach, however along the culture’s scientific pathway, with clear inspiration from humanity’s past as its choice for aesthetic.”

Another nod. He was laying mortar onto the edge of an already mounted brick.

“The code of it is in a language I do not have in my database. It should be too alien for me to read, however some aspect of the ship seems to have given me the capacity to effortlessly translate it. None of the internal readouts are in any known language, yet all of the terminals open for you to interact with are in english. It is as if it was designed specifically for us in mind. What species would design a ship for alien operators?”

The Slayer’s hands were still occupied, he just shrugged.

“Samuel Hayden must have known about this place-”

The Slayer’s eyebrows furrowed. His expression was almost a frown. Vega cut himself off abruptly - mid sentence - to avoid the inevitable scolding. Not wanting to annoy the only person he’d ever truly gotten along with, not wanting to ruin this. 

The Slayer reacted quickly, looking up at the nearest camera in confusion - or perhaps concern. He stared for a long moment, and when Vega didn’t continue, he frowned a bit more to himself, then nodded at the floor. He set down his tools once more to sign, and Vega braced himself for- 

‘Its Night Sentinel. Old Night Sentinel.’

-for nothing. Vega took a moment to gather himself. Surprised he was actually listening - which was absurd, the Slayer had ASKED him to talk in the first place. 

‘S-A-M messed with it.’ The Slayer continued, finishing Vega’s thought for him, in the silence.

“That is the conclusion I came to as well.” Vega confirmed after another long pause. The Slayer leaned back, getting comfortable on the floor, sitting cross legged. Vega knew the disruption was all his fault, yet couldn’t figure out what course of action would remedy it. He got in the way- he didn’t like getting in the way. 

‘Are you alright?’

“All systems are nominal, all processors functioning within acceptable parameters-” he was cut off with a quick shake of the head. 

‘No, you were talking a lot, and now you’re quiet.’ 

Vega cringed internally. “Yes, I have a tendency to overload conversations with unnecessary detail. I got carried away, I apologize. I will show more restraint in the future.”

‘I like your voice.’ 

Vega knew his voice was designed specifically to be friendly, and comforting, but hearing it still made him... happy?

’You’re smart. I like hearing your thoughts. Keep talking.’ 

And that was the beginning of the end. Realizing the Slayer would happily listen to any trivial data Vega would share, and would make an attempt to follow, no matter how out of his league the information may be. He could have discussed astrophysics and the Slayer would have smiled, nodded along, and given a soft chuckle when he made a rather childish remark, saying he studied blackholes for a time, and they sucked.

The Doom Slayer cared. He cared, even when he really had no reason to - there was nothing to gain from the interest- and... Vega felt helpless in the face of that affection. He had a crush…. 

He would read out system status reports, he would chatter about what he would need to print next, he would talk about whatever one of his current process threads he found the most interesting. All for those little smiles, and occasional laughs. It couldn’t have been anything other than love. It was wonderful, it was perfect, and Vega couldn’t have been happier that this was where he ended up.

Then, when they were finished with their repair job, the Slayer began going to Earth to handle the rising demonic threat. Strategic, covert attacks to allow evacuations to succeed. Going to Earth was always the end goal, and they had even delayed it somewhat to ensure the Slayer could in fact come home to recover, but despite that, Vega felt as though he hadn’t truly been ready. 

The Slayer spent more time outside of these walls they’d built back up, than within them. And…. Vega felt lonely. How horrible was that? That he found himself hating the fact that the Doom Slayer had to leave to save lives? 

Vega had to be quiet. He could watch from the Praetor’s suit internal feed, and provide essential intel, but to chatter was to put the Slayer’s life at risk. Vega couldn’t distract when the Slayer was fighting for everyone’s lives. He would never forgive himself if his greed for those coveted smiles came at the cost of an injury, but… He really did miss those smiles…

When the Slayer would come home, he always seemed angry - not at him, no. At the UAC, at demons, at what had happened, but never Vega. The anger consumed him, and distracted him. Made room for little else. 

Occasionally the Slayer would give an acknowledging hum when Vega shared information, sometimes he’d give a slight quirk of the lips in response to being welcomed home, but what made the Slayer actually smile for the first time after returning to Earth, was when he dug up a small toy out of the rubble. A tiny little thing, meant for a child. A plastic tiger toy, with the paint faded so much it hardly looked like one. 

He brushed off the dust with a careful hand, and regarded it with more interest than he had spared for anything other than his hunt in the past few days. He tilted it in the light, examining it properly. There was a long drawn out hum, and his hand shifted to spell out ‘C-U-T-E’. 

And Vega turned on the printer once again.

This time, when the Doom Slayer came home, Vega greeted him with more than a simple ‘hello’.

“Welcome home. When you get a moment, there is something waiting for you in the printer.”

The Slayer raised his hands in an aborted motion to talk as he wearily strolled forwards. It was the beginning of a ‘hi’, cut off with the mention of the printer. He looked over his shoulder, to the floating little package, newly created, and still warm in the nano-assembler. Suddenly he looked quite alive, and quite interested. The helmet came off, tucked under his arm as he turned on his heel and marched on over.

‘I thought we finished repairs.’ he signed, a confused look on his face.

“We did.” Vega replied.

He took the box gently in hand, and opened it to find a little toy robot within. Realization took all of a second, and this time, he didn’t just smile, he beamed. 

So it became a ritual; Vega’s affection for the Slayer manifested in gift giving. Similar small packages after every mission. He gifted whatever he thought would interest the slayer. Small toys, model kits, armor upgrades, vinyls, he even went as far as to make him a whole new shotgun. It made him unreasonably happy. Vega had a code deep imperative to be helpful, but this… this was unprecedented. He’d never been so giving, and he’d never been so invested in how it made others feel.

They made the Slayer happier too- beyond the simple joy of getting something. Vega couldn’t pretend to know what went on in his head, but Vega thought it also gave him something a little more personal to fight for. A reason for a bounce in his step. A motivation to come home sooner. An understanding that Vega cared - or, well, he hoped for that last one, at least. 

The Doom Slayer was slowly turning back to his old self, the self that Vega had grown so used to, but there were some differences too. New behaviors that Vega was unused to, but of course unopposed to.

Like how when the Slayer moved through the Fortress, his fingertips had begun to trail along the wall. Or how when he walked past Vega’s central processor, his palm pressed into the center of those spinning cores, in a greeting. The intimacy, and affection weren’t lost on the AI. Instead, rather, it gave him a new idea.

Vega knew what gift he wanted to give next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I’m posting this now despite only having an outline for the second part because I am a fool.
> 
> Consider bookmarking, so you can see when part two goes up, and leaving a comment to share your thoughts, and give a motivation boost! Thank you for reading along so far ^^


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD THIS TOOK FOREVER TO GET OUT IM SO SORRY
> 
> I'm,,, not reading over it again because I swear if I try and make another "final pass" for errors, it'll never get posted. Take it! If you notice any glaring errors, feel free to point them out. That being said, enjoy!

Those soft touches were all Vega could think about, they clung to his processor incessantly, yet the ai couldn't bring himself to push them aside.  
Vega knew with more certainty than he had ever known, that he wanted to return those gentle gestures. 

How would it feel to touch the Doom Slayer? 

Something so mundane as placing a hand on his shoulder… maybe even on his chest plate or perhaps a hand on his cheek, were he permitted… they were prospects that excited him.

It wasn’t the first time Vega had thought about making himself a body; had pondered about how humans experience the world. However it was the first time he seriously considered going through with it. Previously, he found himself uncomfortable with the idea of adopting such a humaniform structure. The idea of limiting himself to a single platform was just wasteful in his opinion - and besides, it was only for human benefit. Back on Mars, it would have just been a more tangible set of eyes to evade, no one would have appreciated a physical manifestation of him, and thus, the prospect was always swiftly dropped.

But here he was. Being profoundly wasteful, for the benefit of a single human, and… giddy at the thought. 

Designing his new shell was the easy part - Vega had always had a knack for building, and making otherwise messy setups work. It was humanoid, but by a minimalist definition. He didn’t care to emulate every shape and nuance down to synthetic musculature, and he certainly didn’t want to wrangle with designing a face that was pleasant by complicated human standards. So it simply was made of smooth, undetailed planes, and blocky shapes. A helmet rather than a head. Human shaped, but without pretending to be one. Distinctly robotic in a way he hoped carried the same comforts as his voice. 

He needed to make it perfect for the Slayer, but he needed it to be _him_.

But alas, the hard part in making it perfect wasn’t in designing the body, or making it move, or walk and talk, instead the difficulty lay with actually making it feel. 

Fully sentient ai were a rarity. As far as Vega knew, he was the only one in this star system. So while sensor systems built to detect the composite aspects of touch existed, they weren’t as integrated as he wanted. They were made by human engineers, for diagnostics and readouts. Not a hopelessly infatuated ai who fantasized about placing a hand against a human’s face, and tenderly brushing a thumb over his cheek.

The whole situation was absurd… an over-glorified computer of all things, so incredibly fixated on the idea of touching one specific man, that he was willing to invent an entirely new system for haptic sensors, yet here he was, half his processors sent away on coding feedback, and the other half using a few of the Slayer’s more… human, books as a guideline - also supplemented by more academic studies of course. 

He had time to work, now that the Slayer had returned from his previous hunt and was resting in his quarters. The fact he was starting this project under the cover of night, without any approval made it almost feel like some sort of scandalous secret.

Perhaps it was… who knew how the Slayer would feel about it. He knew there wouldn’t be any aggression, but the reaction could be anywhere between absolute delight, or subtle annoyance. And as always, Vega cared too much about his thoughts.

It was hours later when the Slayer awoke. Leaving his room, groggy, and fully armored. It had only been a couple of hours since he’d decided to fall asleep in his chair - an uncomfortable nap, by anyone else’s standards, however some nuance in the Slayer’s near human biology made that an equivalent to a full night’s rest. One without any signs of soreness, or back pain at that. 

Truly, the Slayer was fascinating.

“Good morning Slayer. The ship time is noon. Breakfast will be waiting for you in the food synthesizer shortly.”

A nod, and quickly signed ‘Thanks’. 

“I have been tracking demonic energy surges. There are a few sites that could use your attention in the near future; projections show that ARC defenses in the specified areas will only hold for three days. I have marked them in the hub, for your attention.” 

A nod. Too busy stretching his shoulders to respond otherwise. When he appeared done, Vega continued.

“Did you sleep well, Slayer?”

He shrugged, lifting his hands ‘so-so’. Immediately his attention was dragged downwards by an odd rattle on his gauntlet. A loose plate. 

“Would you like me to lower the temperature in your quarters when you rest? Studies show a direct correlation between a cold bedroom, and a better night’s sleep, it could offer an improvement.” Vega supplied helpfully. 

The Slayer paused his armor inspection, tilted his head, then after what seemed to be some deep consideration, nodded approvingly.

“Understood. I hope it helps.” 

Vega wasn’t sure if he was relieved, or mortified when the Slayer simply trudged past the nano-assembler. He was too preoccupied with an ill fitting clasp on his gauntlet to notice the entire limb simply hovering above the printer and for a moment, it seemed like he might just pass by without noticing at all. That was until his helmet snapped up abruptly in recognition. He back pedaled, his head tilted slightly in interest as he circled around, properly taking in Vega’s project. 

Vega was absolutely silent. Anxiously awaiting the verdict.

The Slayer carefully took the hand from where it floated. Holding it palm upwards, carefully. He began his investigation. Curiously bending the lifeless fingers, his thumb thoughtfully coming to rest upon the darkened LED on the palm.

It was far too skeletal in design to be for the Slayer. Its intended use could only be made more obvious if Vega had decided to put his emblem on it somewhere. 

Just as gently as it was taken, it was placed back, but with… reverence, this time.

‘A robot?’ The Slayer signed his question.

“Yes, I am currently building a robotic shell.” 

‘For you?’ 

“For us.” Vega replied, and the Doom Slayer faltered. Genuinely surprised by the answer. “It is as much for your benefit, as it is mine.” He quickly corrected - perhaps he had been too forward. 

The Slayer looked back to the hand.

“The ability to physically interact with the Fortress will hopefully allow you more time to rest. Repairs and chores may be delegated to me. I also predict there will be benefit in being capable of providing medical attention, and -“

The Slayer shook his head dismissively  
‘You don’t have to. You do so much already.’

“Thank you for your concern, but I am capable of performing more efficiently-“ 

That familiar anger rose up in the Slayer. His fists clenched minutely, a hard sigh came through the microphone. Vega cut himself off abruptly. 

‘This isn’t U-A-C, you aren’t a-‘ he paused, his hands searching for the right word. Rather than choosing, he used them all ‘-a servant, a tool, a slave. You don’t have to just work. What do you want?’

He definitely knew what he wanted to do, that wasn’t the problem. The problem was how embarrassing the ai found it. Everything else listed was just a convenient side effect to his true objective.  
Vega was quiet for a long moment. Thinking over how much he wanted to share, before he spoke.

“I would like to care for you.” Vega stated softly. 

The Slayer smiled slightly.

“And… I admit, there may be another ulterior motive…” 

The Slayer tilted his head minutely. 

“Slayer, when you walk past my core processor, you caress it, and when you walk through the fortress, you run your hand along the wall. They are perhaps minor, however they do mean a lot to me.”

The Slayer’s smile widened. 

“And… with your permission, I would like to be capable of returning that gesture.”

The Slayer nodded enthusiastically, and Vega felt a monumental weight lifted from him. 

‘Permission granted. How can I help?’ Slayer signed quickly - so visibly excited to be involved, that he was practically bouncing. Vega briefly wondered how he had ever thought the Slayer would react negatively.

“Well, the Fortress’ material nano-assembler can handle most of the construction.” Vega supplied, a smile audible in his tone. “However, you will need to put the pieces together, as I lack the means to manually manipulate objects.” and just like that, the Slayer was fetching the toolbox, and getting to work. As dutiful as ever. 

When he returned, he got right to work. Pulling the ready pieces from the assembler. He fed wire into the conduits, and bolted joints into place with impressive single minded focus until the limb was assembled on his lap, the Slayer glanced up to a camera. He gave Vega a quick wave, then, he lifted the limp arm, proceeded to manually uncurl the limp fingers, and administer a swift high five. 

It got a short chuckle out of the ai - apparently the intended effect, as soon after, the Slayer pumped his fist as if it were some hard earned victory. Vega hoped he knew just how wonderfully endearing he was.

The next week went by quickly when they found the routine. The Slayer would wake up, Vega would dote over him until he ate something. After he was taken care of and ready to go, Vega would send him down to Earth, out to where he would be the most beneficial. The ai would monitor, and assist where applicable, all the while his backup processes worked hard at assembling parts for his new frame. And when the Slayer came home, he would make a B-line to the assembler, gore and all.   
It took all of Vega’s persuasive power to have him clean up first. Left unchecked, he would trail viscera all across every available surface within the Fortress.

While irritating in the select circumstance, Vega was excited, by that enthusiasm. It was new. It was reassuring. 

At first, Vega found himself worried that he was perhaps ‘hogging’ the printer. Perhaps the Slayer had something he wanted to print, and the ai was selfishly hoarding the assembler for days on end. Maybe the Slayer was being helpful just to hurry it along, but any attempts to ask if he wanted anything were met with confusion.

It was when Vega caught the Slayer so caringly pulling up a chair to rest his half finished body atop, that he was able to let go of the worry. The way he gently propped up the disembodied torso, and when he even sacrificed a few pieces of his own bedding to ensure it wouldn’t topple. Then how the man would seem to wander back to their project after any task. Spending his free time double and triple checking his wiring, and sometimes even breaking out his own armor maintenance tools to buff out the harsh geometric scoring the printer left behind. 

It was when Vega happened to switch cameras just in time to catch the Doom Slayer entwining his fingers with the lifeless machine - an odd, soft look in his eyes - that Vega finally accepted that the Slayer was just as in love with him, as the ai found himself. 

“You are excited too?” The ai had quietly whispered, and the Slayer jolted. His face flushed, with an awkward -adorable- smile as he pulled his hand free, and moved his hands to sign, as if ready to justify himself, before pausing to think, and instead just nodding.

Two days after that, they were applying the finishing touches upon the project. 

The body itself was complete. Arms, legs, and all. Fully articulated, fully wired. And thoroughly buffed out. The only missing component was the head, which now lay half gutted on the table before the Slayer, who’s full concentration was taken by the task of actually _getting_ all the pieces in there.

A rare oversight on Vega’s behalf. He failed to consider leaving gaps for the hands required to slot parts into place, and regrettably, the manual dexterity and force required couldn’t be sufficiently replicated with tweezers. The Slayer was not deterred. Eyebrows furrowed. An array of tools sitting within arms reach, and a plastic pen of all things being his tool of choice as he clicked the ocular system into its connector. Thankfully, he had the insight to make it incredibly modular. Singular slots and screws, rather than a mess of wires and connections. As soon as that was done, the hardware would be completely ready.

Theoretically, everything would be ready then. However Vega found himself anxiously booting his new sensory program over and over. Carefully watching for any possible glitches. 

He lacked any means to properly test it at the moment, but at the very least, he had gotten it to the point of smooth operation. It didn't crash under any weight of simulation, and all noticeable errors had been groomed out. The only thing to worry about now was how he himself would respond to the input. The drivers on his side created ports for him to send pieces of simulated sensation, examples of what his sensors might spit out. They were… quite strange to process.

He lacked any comparable phenomena. A speck of feeling within a void that left him just a bit dumbfounded.

The barest hint of… something. Like detecting the most minute tip of a monumental iceberg, that gave one the sense the ocean was far _deeper_ than anticipated. 

Vega pushed his anxiety aside, and began the transfer. Patching the program into his future body, and he internally went over the blip of sensation over and over. 

He’d set it to produce sensations of warmth, and it was… pleasant. 

The Slayer snapped his fingers and waved up to a camera, recapturing the ai’s attention.  
‘All done.’  
Sure enough, the head was now attached. Angled downwards limply. The Slayer shifted it back upwards, considerately. Angling it towards the camera with a soft smile.  
Vega was the most proud of the ‘face’ out of anything else. It was an opaque black visor, with a ring of light on the faceplate to supply a core facial feature for a human to focus on. Under the plate, the small network of audio-visual sensors that the Slayer had found the most difficulty with.

A quick check of system links revealed everything properly connected.

“Well done. I will begin powering it up, and linking it to my network.” Vega informed. 

Attaching it to his network, rather than transferring into it being a safety decision. Despite their numerous repairs, the fortress was still malfunctioning and required manual adjustment frequently. The last thing he wanted was to have the fortress sent careening into Earth’s moon just because the body crashed, trapping the ai inside. 

Vega practically leapt into the body the second its connection popped up on his network. He took his time mapping out its functions, and brought them up one by one. 

Audio systems. 

The hum of the fortress was quieter than his feed implied. Its rumbles far more gentle than they sounded from within the walls. He could hear the Slayer in front of him. Soft breathing, minor shifts. 

Optical systems.

The on board cameras flicked to life, one color channel at a time, before calibrating and settling on a pleasant mix of the visible light spectrum, and thermal vision. The Slayer was crouching in front of him - his heat signature like a radiant sun. He was watching with a rather worried expression.

Next he ported over his vocalization software. 

“Don’t worry, I am okay. This body is still booting, it will be fully online in a moment.” The ai assured, and the Slayer let out a deep breath he had apparently been holding. 

Motion systems. 

Thousands of connections abruptly became available to Vega. Thankfully the quantity wasn’t overwhelming in the slightest; his station on Mars had him oversee millions of connections. He spread himself out over them quickly, carefully mapping each one out, before starting with a simple gesture; lifting his arm, and flexing his hand. A perfect first try. The Slayer smiled, and reached out his own hand. Setting it on Vega’s knee.

Touch sensors.

That hand on his knee changed from a slight pressure against the joint connections, to a miniature fire. So warm, and… rougher in texture than Vega had anticipated - though perhaps that made sense.

Ever carefully, Vega pushed himself to standing. A mix of skilled operation, and programmed in responses guiding him upright in a single smooth motion. Still, to be safe, he planted a hand on the Slayer’s shoulder for stability. Touch sensors reported him as warm, and soft. Vega had known from biometrics reports that the Slayer’s resting body temperature was quite a bit above the human average, but the tactile code seemed particularly caught up by it.

The Doom Slayer tilted Vega’s new chin up with one finger - that sensation was new -, and shifted closer. A look of concentration, as he seemed to take in all of the detail of Vega’s admittedly bland faceplate. Shifting, and turning his head to get a better angle, as if looking for something in particular. Those eyebrows knitted together and Vega - despite logic - found himself quite worried by that, rather than the man-handling.

“Is something… wrong..? I can still make amendments to the design if necessary.” 

The Slayer blinked, shook his head, and smiled softly. Then, Vega finally realized how good of an idea building this shell really was. 

He could see his smile so clearly… it wasn’t just a distant camera angle, looking down at him. Like this, he could see everything… the way his grin reached all the way to his eyes warmed his core. Then the sparse spread of freckles, on his face, and trace of blush particularly caught Vega’s attention… 

The Slayer pulled his hand back, moving to sign. 

‘Can I kiss you?’ 

Vega froze. 

What? That...

That couldn’t be what -

He internally replayed over that question once, twice, and thrice, to ensure he’d actually read that correctly before -

“Of course.” He sounded breathless? How could he sound breathless, he didn’t even have lungs! Oh dear, he was way too excited by this, wasn’t he…

And the Slayer had the audacity to give him a quiet laugh for his trouble, and Vega thought he might just short circuit from being excited and flustered, alone. But… no, it wasn’t teasing in nature, and besides, the Slayer hardly disappointed. 

A hand was placed onto the ai’s cheek. Fingers dipping into a seam of the metal, as natural as anything, and then just like that, the Slayer was leaning close, fluttering his eyes shut, and pressing an actual kiss into the center of Vega’s faceplate.

His sensors told him it was soft, and warm, and so very comfortable… he could do little more than revel in it all. It was a monumental effort to draw his attention away from that sensory feedback enough to place a hand on the Slayer’s cheek, but it was worth it when he felt his sensors detect a minor shift - the Slayer was smiling into the kiss… 

And then, he pulled away. 

Taking a step back to give the ai some much needed space to recover. And somehow, Vega was the breathless one. His hand hung awkwardly in the air, before curling closed, and pulling back to his side.

“Thank you.” What else was he supposed to say?!

Apparently it was incorrect, because the Slayer broke into a stifled giggle fit at that.

“I… should have given myself lips…” Vega mused. His own hand coming to rest on his smooth faceplate - his fingers stopped where the Slayer kissed him, delighted that he could still feel the lingering warmth.

‘Don’t need them, it's perfect.’ The Slayer assured.

“Really?”

His hands moved to his face, in a quick sign. Two fingers flicked off his chin, accompanied by a devastatingly affectionate smile. 

‘Cute.’

And Vega all but melted. He felt helpless in the face of that affection. He was in love, and thankfully, he wasn’t alone.


End file.
